The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower

Home > Other > The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower > Page 8
The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower Page 8

by Hazel Linwood


  Smiling in amusement at the thought, Diana did her best to pay attention to her lessons, as she did not wish to jeopardize her current progress with the Dowager. Life would be much simpler for them both if they were able to find a way to get along with one another on an everyday basis. Diana hoped that the positive change she saw now in the older lady would not disappear the moment the Earl left Westwallow for Appley. It was almost enough to wish for the Earl to stay indefinitely.

  “I will do my utmost,” Diana promised, hoping to appease her as best as she could, without giving in completely on the matter of marriage.

  “See that you do,” the Dowager replied, giving her a warning look. “I will tolerate none of your less than ladylike behaviors this evening.”

  When has she ever tolerated it?

  Diana fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, My Lady,” she murmured demurely instead.

  “Very good,” the Dowager smiled, clearly believing that she had tamed the wild beast. “Now about your attire for this evening…”

  The day wore on, with the Dowager going over every little detail for the dinner and Diana doing her best to at least pretend to pay attention to every word. When she was finally able to escape, she slipped below stairs down to the kitchens, hoping to snare a cup of the cook’s delightful cider. She had hoped to slip in and out unnoticed, for perhaps a maid to assist her in her endeavor, but the moment that she had entered the kitchens everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up in surprise.

  “My Lady,” the cook, Lilly Rowan, stepped forward and greeted her warmly. “How may I be of assistance?”

  “I was rather hoping that I might have some of your wonderful cider, Mrs. Rowan. Gabriel shared some with me during my tour of the estate and I must admit I have become quite enamored with its robust flavor.”

  “Ah, but of course,” Mrs. Rowan smiled. “Gabriel told me of your complimentary words. I am most humbled by My Lady’s favor.”

  “You deserve every word of praise. Your culinary acumen is truly extraordinary.”

  Mrs. Rowan blushed with pleasure. “I thank you, My Lady. If you will just follow me into the pantry, I will go and get you the cider.”

  “Of course,” Diana nodded her consent and followed after the cook.

  “I will only be a moment,” the cook informed her helpers.

  Diana walked past the gaping faces of the kitchen staff to follow the cook into the pantry.

  One would think that they had never seen a lady of breeding before, which I know is not true as they work for the Dowager Marchioness.

  It occurred to her belatedly that she would be an oddity to them, as it was most unlikely that the Dowager Marchioness had ever stepped foot in the kitchens.

  “My apologies if my request was done in an inappropriate manner. I am used to being able to enter the kitchens as I wish at Kilgrave.”

  “You are never a bother, My Lady. You may come to the kitchens anytime that you desire. You will always be welcome.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rowan. I admit that I am rather homesick, but I cannot say such to the Dowager Marchioness for fear of unintentionally insulting her hospitality.”

  “I understand. It must be difficult for you to come from the seaside to an inland estate such as Westwallow.”

  Diana nodded. “Westwallow is a beautiful estate, one of the loveliest that I have ever laid eyes upon, but I do miss gazing at the freedom of the open sea, the freedom to sail away from the world.”

  “You are a lady who values her freedom, I can see,” the cook wisely observed.

  “I do,” Diana nodded. “As much as a lady of breeding can be free.”

  The cook smiled. “Not free enough for your liking, I take it?”

  “No, not nearly enough.”

  Diana liked speaking with the cook. Lilly Rowan was a kind woman, of keen observation and compassion, qualities that her son shared. Thoughts of Gabriel caused an uneasiness to settle upon her like a weight. The notion of him marrying anyone greatly upset her, even though she knew that she had absolutely no right to feel as she did. She had not known him long enough to feel as possessive of his person as she had felt on overhearing he and the Marquess discussing marriage.

  “What is causing you such distress?” the cook asked, handing her a cup of the promised cider. “I can see it in your eyes. You are quite upset about something.” Diana’s surprised look caused her to rush ahead. “Please forgive my impertinence, My Lady. I did not mean to overstep. I only wished to express concern and offer a listening ear if you wish to unburden yourself.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rowan. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I fear that it is a matter I am not free to discuss.”

  “I understand. I will pray that you are able to come to some peaceful resolution on the matter.”

  “Thank you. You are most kind.”

  “Not at all,” Mrs. Rowan shook her head, waving a hand as if it were something completely insignificant. “The toils of life were not meant to be borne alone. I am always here if you change your mind and wish to talk.”

  Diana smiled warmly at the cook. They walked together back to the kitchen and Diana carried her cider up the stairs to her own bedchamber. Frances awaited her arrival with a warm rose-scented bath and freshly laundered linens.

  “How were your lessons this day, My Lady?” Frances inquired, as she aided Diana out of her clothes and into the bath. “The Dowager Marchioness gave me strict instructions on how you were to be dressed and coifed this evening, hence the rose petals in the water,” she explained.

  “I see,” Diana sighed, leaning her head back against the edge of the tub and sipped slowly at her cider as the water subsided around her in rippling circles.

  “She appears to be most anxious for this evening to be perfect. I do not understand the significance myself, as the Earl, though a pleasant sort, is of lesser rank than the Marquess, but I would like to keep her as pleasant as possible so I will do as she asks.”

  “The significance is that the Dowager Marchioness will consider it a personal victory if she can officially betroth you to the Earl before she returns you home to your family. I overheard her speaking with the Marquess on the matter last evening after you had gone to bed.”

  “What else have you heard?”

  “I did not hear much at all, only that she intends to break you as one would a horse.” Frances frowned at the comparison as if she did not like the taste of it in her mouth.

  “I will not be broken by anyone, least of all her,” Diana argued, greatly disliking the comparison.

  “I only repeat what the Dowager Marchioness said, My Lady.”

  “I do not doubt it, Frances. Thank you for your honesty.”

  “Of course, My Lady,” Frances dropped a quick curtsy and busied herself with the remaining preparations.

  Diana closed her eyes and leaned back against the tub’s edge once more, allowing the warmth of the water to ease the tension in her muscles. The Dowager Marchioness had a way of making Diana feel anxious even when the older woman was attempting to be nice to her.

  How my grandmother was the dearest of friends with such a contrary woman I do not understand. Perhaps there is more to the Dowager Marchioness than I am able to see?

  Shaking her head, Diana opened her eyes and set to scrubbing away the remains of the day. She resolved to be on her best behavior at dinner and make her family proud. Even if she had no intentions of marrying the Earl, she could at the very least be entertaining.

  Perhaps I will come away from this with a dear friend of my own, but most certainly not a husband.

  Gabriel entered the kitchen to see if his mother needed any assistance with heavy lifting. Preparing an evening meal for a noble guest was always an ordeal in a household such as Westwallow. Everything must be perfect, or the Dowager Marchioness’ ire would rain down upon the entire house.

  “Can I be of aid, Mother?” he asked, as he came up behind her and kissed the very top of her head. It was a great sour
ce of amusement between them that he was tall enough to do so and it always made her smile.

  “Ah, Gabriel, love,” his mother greeted, her face covered in a sheen of sweat from the ovens. “Can you remove that large iron pot from the hook over there and place it on the table so that the kitchen maids can empty it?”

  “Of course,” he nodded and moved to do as she asked. The kitchen maids fluttered their lashes at him coyly and he pretended not to notice. His mother would not be pleased if he distracted them from their labors any more than his mere presence already did. The maids giggled and smiled at his bulging arm muscles as he lifted the heavy pot. His mother gave the maids a warning look and they returned to work immediately. Gabriel fought back the urge to chuckle at their abashed faces.

  “You are a distraction, my son,” his mother teased him fondly.

  “My apologies, Mother.” Gabriel set the pot down where instructed, then stepped out of the way. “Is there anything else that I can help you with?”

  “No,” his mother shook her head. “I met the young Lady Diana this afternoon.”

  “Oh?” Gabriel attempted to appear nonchalant, but his mother’s eyes were too keen to fall for it. She gave him a knowing look.

  “She is quite lovely.”

  “She is,” Gabriel nodded slowly, attempting to gauge where the conversation was going.

  “She spoke quite favorably about you.”

  “Did she?”

  “She did.” His mother stopped what she was doing and turned to look into his eyes. “Be careful, my son,” she whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. “Therein lies danger.”

  “What do you mean?” Gabriel asked, confused.

  “Nothing,” she shook her head. “Simply be careful.”

  “You have nothing to fear. Nothing can happen between she and I, Mother, she is a lady of the nobility. I am nothing but a stable hand.”

  “You are so much more than that, my son.”

  “Thank you, Mother. I am certain that every good mother would feel the same about their own sons, but it does not change the distance between Lady Diana and I.”

  His mother sighed and turned back to her work. “As you say, my darling, but there may still be danger. Please, heed my words.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “I mean what I say, Gabriel. I will not see you brought to ruin for the love of a pretty face.”

  “I cannot be ruined by that which I cannot have.”

  “No, my son, what we want but cannot have, that is what ruins us.”

  Chapter 12

  Diana descended the stairs and entered the library where the Marquess and the Earl were awaiting she and the Dowager Marchioness before going into the dining room.

  “You look lovely,” the Earl came forward and bowed over her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it.

  “Thank you,” Diana blushed and retrieved her hand from his grasp.

  The Dowager Marchioness entered the room on a cloud of scented rose water. “Ah, you make a lovely couple,” she noted with a smile.

  “I was just telling Lady Diana how beautiful she is this evening,” the Earl stepped forward and bowed over the Dowager Marchioness’ hand.

  “Delightful,” the Dowager Marchioness smiled so sweetly that Diana was afraid that her face might crack. “Shall we go through to the dining room?”

  The Earl offered his arm to Diana while the Marquess escorted his mother. Each nobleman pulled out their lady’s seat, then sat down at either end of the table. The table was such a large affair that they were all quite some distance from one another. It was at times like these that Diana found protocol rather an absurd, impractical thing. She would have said as much now if it were not for the Dowager Marchioness sitting across from her, silently assessing everything that she did.

  I do not wish to give the Dowager any reason to return to the way she was before.

  Settling into her chair, Diana prepared herself for an awkward evening. She very much wished that she was not forced to stare at the Dowager Marchioness all through the meal, but it was hard not to when she was seated directly across from her. If Diana avoided the Dowager’s gaze it would make her appear to be rude or evasive. She did not wish to be perceived as having either flaw attached to her character. She was so distracted by the uncomfortable nature of their situation that she nearly dumped her soup in her own lap.

  “Be more mindful,” the Dowager Marchioness chastised quietly so as not to be overheard by the others present.

  Diana nodded in apology and turned her concentration toward her food. She had been raised in a noble household her entire life and should not have had such a hard time acclimating to the circumstances that she now found herself in, but everything about the Dowager and her situation at Westwallow had her feeling out of place. The fear of disappointing her parents, combined with her own natural inclination toward rebellion, were in constant battle one with the other.

  “Are you well, Lady Diana?” the Earl asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

  “I am well, My Lord. Why do you ask?”

  “The look on your face was that of a lady vexed.”

  “My apologies, My Lord. It is only the fatigue of the day, I assure you.”

  “Yes, it has been quite an eventful day,” the Earl smiled kindly and nodded. “Perhaps we should all retire early for the hunt tomorrow?”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea, Appley,” the Marquess nodded in agreement. “We would not want any accidents due to exhaustion, now would we?” He gave Diana a pointed look.

  “No, My Lord,” Diana answered, uncertain whether he knew the real reason for her behavior. Thoughts of Gabriel had plagued her all throughout the day and she had been unable to focus on anything else. Her distraction was making her quite clumsy in her actions and it had not gone unnoticed.

  “After we dine, we shall all go straight to bed then and forgo our usual evening repartee.”

  The Dowager Marchioness frowned at this edict but said nothing. Diana had noted that the Dowager and her son disagreed often, but as he was the lord of the manor and she was but the lady mother, there was very little to be done about it, though the Dowager did her fair share of manipulating to get her own way. Diana assumed that the Dowager’s displeasure was born of not being able to play her matchmaking games between the Earl and Diana, as the Dowager would not be going on the hunt and therefore did not need to comply with the Earl’s suggestion if she wished it otherwise.

  I will be spending the entire day with Gabriel at my side. Let us hope that no one notices the tension between us. I would never wish to have Gabriel suffer because of me, though I suppose my wishing for him to remain unwed would do much the same for the poor man. If only he had been born a nobleman, but then, would I have had anything to do with him?

  Diana shook her head in mild amusement at her own rebellious spirit.

  What a difficult one you are, Diana Bexley. You do not know your own mind.

  “Are you excited for the hunt, Lady Diana?” the Earl asked, misinterpreting the amusement on her face.

  “I am,” she nodded, not about to admit what she was truly thinking. She could only imagine the outright disapproval that would have circulated around the table if they really knew what she was thinking. The thought brought her some amount of deviant pleasure. She could just imagine the Dowager’s eyes popping out of her head in disapproval.

  Do not be so unkind. The Dowager has been much more tolerable of late. Regardless of how I feel about this entire situation, it does not give me the right to be disrespectful.

  “It is my hope that we will land the old stag of the forest during your visit, Appley. I was thinking of holding a dance for all of the estate’s servants and tenants. Such a stag would be an ample reason to feast.”

  “Indeed, it would,” the Earl smiled. “A jolly notion, my dear fellow. I would be most happy to assist you in the endeavor. We host an annual feast for our servants and tenants on the Isle of Wight in appreciation for all of
their hard work throughout the year.”

  “A wonderful tradition,” the Marquess nodded in approval. “I would like to institute something similar here at Westwallow.”

  “Do you truly believe that such a thing is necessary?” the Dowager Marchioness frowned in disapproval. “Surely what we already provide for them is gratitude enough. The fact that they have work to do at all should be enough in these trying times.”

  “With all due respect to Your Ladyship,” the Earl began. “I disagree. They need to know that their efforts mean something more, that they mean something more.”

 

‹ Prev